


loved you three summers, honey I want 'em all

by theshipstorulethemallwrites



Category: Actor RPF, Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Blow Jobs, Established Relationship, Idiots in Love, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Reunion Sex, Semi-Public Sex, jersey kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-22
Updated: 2019-08-22
Packaged: 2020-09-18 23:21:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20321209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theshipstorulethemallwrites/pseuds/theshipstorulethemallwrites
Summary: it's been a long few months of separation and well, they're young and in lovefor Jess





	loved you three summers, honey I want 'em all

**Author's Note:**

> me again, with these two. they do things to my heart and this happens
> 
> HAPPY HAPPY HAPPY BIRTHDAY JESS!!!!! I'm so grateful to know and call you a friend and this fic isn't near what you deserve but I hope you enjoy
> 
> thanks to Hannah and Elizabeth for the beta and the cheerleading <3333

Most games, Brock’s whole focus in on the ice, is on winning, but tonight he just wants the game to end, so he can get home, so he can wake up and it will be tomorrow. Their schedules have made it so he hasn’t seen KJ in person so like May, it’s been nearly five months since he’s seen his boyfriend and actually got an orgasm that wasn’t from his hand. This week is one of their longest homestands of the season and KJ’s still filming but he’s got a week off for some reason. Their schedules finally lined up, not only to be together but to be _ together _.

Maybe it’s because of that intense desire that Brock glances at the jumbotron during a stoppage of play in the second. Boy is he glad he did because he knows that face. 

Up on the jumbotron in -- holy shit that’s his jersey -- is his boyfriend. His boyfriend who blushes and waves for the fans and is beaming. 

Other than the skills competition last year, this is the first game that KJ’s come to and Brock suddenly needs to make it a good one. He knows he’s probably staring dumbstruck at the jumbotron but if anyone knew they wouldn’t be able to blame him. 

The goal that the Lightning scored gets called back for goalie interference and Elias hops over the boards, nudging Brock who follows him. 

“Well you look determined,” Quinn comments as Elias organizes the face off. 

Brock nods, he knows he’s grinning. 

“Gonna get a goal?” Elias asks, as he lines up against Stamkos to wait for the ref to drop the puck.

“Gonna get three,” Brock responds, a swagger in his veins that wasn’t there three minutes ago. Elias looks delighted and determined in equal measure.

Elias wins the draw cleanly, passing it back to Quinn. Just like that they’re racing up the ice, Brock shoving Hedman out of position and receiving a pass from Alex that goes right into the net. 

Brock fists pumps, skating over to accepting the adoration of the crowd and jumping into the boards. 

By the time the period ends, Brock has two goals and they’re leading the Lightning. He doesn’t want to leave the ice, wants the next 40 or so minutes to go by in a flash, wants to get home and get to kiss his boyfriend. It’s been too damn long and Brock is feeling more impatient than he was feeling at the draft. 

“Man, you’re a beast out there tonight, someone in the crowd?” Jacob teases, everyone’s always trying to figure out who Brock’s dating. It started to get annoying so Brock now has a jar above his locker that every teammate has to put $10 in if they want to guess who he’s dating. So far no one has gotten close; although, Bo had guessed a guy from the 100 for two weeks. That money, even split in half with one of the LGBTQ charities, had allowed him to take KJ out whale watching. At least they’ve stopped guessing the girls from Riverdale, even the mere thought of dating Camila is weird. 

Brock shrugs but he can’t contain his grin, KJ’s here after all, wearing his jersey. 

The third period feels like it lasts eons, he finishes his hat trick within the first five minutes. Within the first five shifts he takes, and the remaining minutes feel like he’s watching the clock more than he’s watching the ice. He gets first star honors and skates out to the adoration, beaming as he hears KJ yelling even 50 feet above him. He goes through media with single minded focus, gives hockey cliches and is shorter than normal with the reporters. They’re preventing him from getting to KJ, from getting home, from getting laid. All of those are important, even if the first is overriding.

He showers, gets dressed, and heads out before Quinn is even done with media. He completely forgot that he drove Elias because well Petey is in the shower. 

A door is slightly open and he’s so distracted that he nearly runs into it.

“Christ, this is the middle of the players hallway,” he mutters, moving to shut the door but it opens all the way and suddenly he’s tugged into the storage closet. 

“Hey B,” KJ says, grinning. Brock can’t really see him in the dark but he lunges for where he hears the voice coming from and kisses him, teeth biting into KJ’s lip. KJ groans, his hands coming around to grab Brock’s ass, pulling him even closer even as he opens his mouth to let Brock add his tongue to the teeth. 

“Can’t believe you’re here,” he murmurs, resting his forehead against KJ’s, inhaling sharply when he feels bare skin against his pants. 

“Babe,” Brock says slowly and KJ smirks, reaching to the side and flipping on the light. 

“Fucking hell,” Brock swears, nearly swallowing his tongue as he takes in the sight of KJ’s red hair shining against the blue of the Boeser jersey, the way his cock is jutting out, clearly hard and Brock wants to make him lose it. Brock can pay to dry clean this pants, fuck it, he’s going to blow his boyfriend, who’s wearing his fucking jersey. 

KJ clearly has other plans because he drops to his knees and that’s when Brock notices a shirt and pants on the floor, cushion for KJ’s knees.

“I think a hat trick deserves a reward,” he says, grinning brightly and Brock wonders when he’ll be able to breathe normally again. Not any time soon, that he knows for sure.

“It’s going to be quick,” Brock warns, tangling his fingers in KJ’s hair, prompting a smirk from his boyfriend. 

“The jersey doing it for you?” KJ teases and Brock nods, “you look like mine.” 

“I am,” KJ reassures him, looking like he’s torn between getting up and kissing Brock and just pulling off his pants. 

Brock makes the choice for him, tugging him up and kissing him again.

“It looks like you’re my husband,” he admits quietly. The words falling from his lips without him really thinking through their meaning, thinking through his tone, thinking about how much he wants that. He says it anyway and KJ’s gasp sounds loud in the silence that follows.

“Too honest?” Brock asks, biting his bottom lip and KJ shakes his head, fingers clutching Brock’s tie and crashing their lips together. 

“I love you,” KJ says quietly, when Brock finally has to pull back to get air back in his lungs. 

“Awww babe,” Brock grins, one hand pressed on KJ’s back, on his name resting there, on his number. He feels possessive swell in him, having his boyfriend here, in front of him, is almost overwhelming after so long of just pictures and video calls. 

He’s so lost in the feeling that he doesn’t notice KJ getting to his knees again, like the interruption and Brock admitting that he wants to get married aren’t enough to prevent him from getting what he wants. 

“KJ,” Brock groans, his boyfriend’s name feeling like it’s been pulled from his lips as KJ runs his hands over Brock’s thighs. 

KJ just smirks up at Brock, nuzzling his pants where his cock has been growing harder. Brock gasps at the contact, fingers finding their way to KJ’s hair, tugging him forward. 

“Baby, please,” Brock whines, nearly ripping his pants in his haste to get them off.

KJ doesn’t answer with words, just leans forward and wraps one hand around Brock’s ass while sliding the head of his cock into his mouth. Brock throws his head back at the contact, warm and wonderful, the first touch of someone else on his cock in months. 

KJ hums around him, pleased, and Brock jolts forward, pre-cum already leaking. 

Pulling off, KJ looks up at him, “wow, you really are on a hair trigger.” 

“KJ,” Brock groans, this time in annoyence, “nothing but my hand has touched my cock in months and you’re on your knees in my jersey after I scored a hat trick, the fact that I haven’t gone off like a rocket should be fucking praised.” 

“Fair,” KJ says, “I don’t know how I’d survive if you showed up in my trailer wearing Archie’s leather jacket and nothing else.”

Brock grins, “aww man, that was going to be your birthday present.” 

“Fucking hell,” KJ swears, his accent coming out just a little more as the image hits him. He leans forward, his fingers tracing something on Brock’s thigh as he starts sucking him off again. 

Brock groans at the feeling, at KJ’s mouth, KJ’s tongue tracing something around the head and he wants to say something about how it’s about time but the words seem far away. The world seems far away, everything narrowing down to KJ and the tiny space of the storage closet inside Rogers Arena. His fingers tighten in KJ’s hair, ruining the carefully styled look even more. KJ takes him deeper at that and Brock groans softly, his eyes falling shut without him noticing, as he lets the sensations overtake him. KJ notices, pulling off as Brock makes a confused whine, looking as his boyfriend who’s licking his lips like he’s desperate for something. 

“I want you to be watching me,” he says and the hoarseness of his voice makes Brock groan, even as he nods, eyes sweeping across the “Boeser” emblazoned on KJ’s back as he gets back to making him weak kneed and desperate. He doesn’t have words for the feeling, the love and lust consuming him, and he knows he isn’t going to last. 

He bites his lip, hard enough to leave a mark indented there as he tries to keep from screaming at the way KJ is playing him like he’s on a breakaway and the goalie has one move. Basically, KJ’s pulling out all his tricks and showing off, even though he knows how easy it is to get the goal. 

KJ can tell that he’s thinking because he bobs his head, his body moving forward and the number on his back catching Brock’s eye. It’s overwhelming and Brock knows that staying silent is a hopeless task as growls and whimpers escape him even though he’s biting his lip hard enough that he can taste blood. KJ hums around him, his moan sending vibrations through Brock’s cock to his entire body and he barely stops himself from thrusting forward. 

KJ pulls off, looks at him and groans, “Do it B, please.” 

That’s all the permission Brock needs, that and KJ open his mouth, just waiting. Thrusting forward, he slides his cock in deep, hands twisting in KJ’s hair to hold him place as he begins letting himself lose control.

KJ swallows him deeper, mouth enveloping him and even though he can’t move, he uses his tongue to drive Brock wild. It’s been months but what Brock likes hasn’t changed and what Brock loves begins and ends with every part of the image before him. KJ in his jersey, in his arena, in their city, finding pleasure in giving him pleasure. He knows this is going to be the sight he conjures up when he’s in hotel rooms, miles away from the man he loves, and KJ is busy with filming. 

He’s gasping, fast, desperate and needy, fucking his hips forward as he groans out, tugging on KJ’s hair, “fuck, I’m close.”

Humming around Brock, KJ flexes his fingers on Brock’s ass, one finger tracing his rim. Even the mere promise has Brock biting on lip hard, whines falling from his mouth because words seem impossible. 

“Oh god,” he stutters out, shakey at the thought of KJ getting up and fucking him while still wearing his jersey, thrusting harder in KJ’s mouth. He feels unsteady, like he’s about to come. 

KJ smirks as best as he can and Brock swears when he realizes. “Menace,” he sighs fondly and thrusts harder, nearly slamming his head against the wall as he feels KJ trace his initials around his cock with his tongue.

“Fuck, baby,” he swears, the possessive instict curling alongside the arosaul making him snap his hips forward, coming with a silent shout, hand instictively clapping over his mouth as KJ sucks him through the aftershocks. 

KJ swallows him down, swallows the taste and suckles on the head of Brock’s cock like he’s been in the desert for weeks and has finally found drinkable water. 

The overstimulation makes Brock whine and KJ pulls off, licking his lips like he doesn’t want to waste any of it. 

“Home?” Brock manages to say and KJ nods, getting up off his knees, tilting his head and waiting for Brock to kiss him. Brock does, he doesn’t want to spend any more time for the next week where he’s not on the ice without KJ, it’s been too long. It’s soft, slower than the ones they had shared. 

He can taste the echoes of himself in KJ’s mouth and it makes him clutch the back of KJ’s jersey, the back of his jersey, tugging him even closer. 

“Come on B, you deserve two more orgasms,” KJ murmurs, biting on his lower lip, and Brock feels himself trying to get hard again. 

“You are a menace,” he says, pulling his pants back on and watching with an odd mixture of sadness and delight as KJ pulls off the jersey to put his shirt on. The flash of skin is gorgeous as always and he’s missed being close enough to touch his boyfriend’s abs but the jersey, fuck. KJ should never take it off. 

Thankfully, he pulls it on over his shirt and grins at Brock, hair falling in his face and his voice sounds wrecked as he says, “home, please.” 

Brock presses a kiss to his lips again, feeling bereft and aimless as he turns away towards the door. Now that he has KJ back, he doesn’t want to ever let go. 

Maybe he should go ahead and buy that ring he’d put on hold. And probably talk to his agent, after all a husband is way harder to hide than a boyfriend.

  


**Author's Note:**

> title from Lover by Taylor Swift
> 
> find me on twitter @hockeytoruleall
> 
> comments and kudos make me grin
> 
> (I need you all to know that as I was writing this, KJ Apa posted that he was listening to this song on Spotify and uh I have more ideas for this two so there might be more 
> 
> chorus:  
Take your time I'm with you  
Things are just fine  
Just walk with me through the storm  
I know you feel troubled  
Rightfully so but it's time for you to grow)


End file.
